


To the Altar We Pray

by Dirk_From_Statefarm



Series: The Royal Knight and her queen [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirk_From_Statefarm/pseuds/Dirk_From_Statefarm
Summary: All mistakes are mine





	To the Altar We Pray

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are mine

    Shadows danced across the temple walls and soft footsteps echoed quietly. It was custom to not wear shoes when walking through the sacred halls. The female figure looked small compared to the towering pillars  and high ceilings. Ancient words were engraved into the marble floor, speaking of the legends that only a few could decipher. She walked with a basket balanced on her head and cradled a bottle to her chest with her free hand. At the end of the long hallway kneeled a statue that seemed to breathe with the shadows. With careful movements, she kneeled before it. The basket was placed beside her and the bottle in front of her and tried to think of the best way to greet her Lord. It had been so long since she traveled to the altar that  it felt awkward. 

    “I suppose,” she started but stopped. “No, I should apologize. It has been years since I have come to you. My duties as a Royal Guard have taken up so much time that I stopped coming. Though, that is no excuse because I have not prayed either. I have returned home for the meantime. It is has been a pleasant stay and,” she paused again, reaching into the basket to pull out a warm loaf of bread. “I have brought some bread that my parents made this morning to you as part of my offering.” She then pulled out meat and cheese and a jar that held a thick spread. Two plates were gently set down and then two glass cups. “Everything is fresh, actually. The spread was made before I came here and the cheese and meat are from yesterday’s work. I hope that the wine is to your liking, I have forgotten which one pleases you so.” She carefully poured the wine and cut the bread, lathering the spread onto it and layer cheese and meat. Pushing the plate closer to the towering statue, she let the ritual robe fall to her elbows. 

    “You see, I’d like to point out my new scars to you. Just like I used to.” She traced a newly healed wound that arched over her right breast and down her sternum. “This one is from our most recent war with the other kingdom. One of their equestrian riders was a little too fast for me. Which is a disappointment because it is my duty to protect the Queen and if I can’t be fast enough then I am not good enough.” The shadows that the torches cast stilled suddenly. They were held in a way that she felt guilty. Like her Lord was angry. “I apologize. It is not for me to decide that, for only you who can truly judge me.” Shaking fingers prodded the ugly gash that was being held together by stitches on her stomach. “I killed someone. I  _ killed _ him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. My Queen wanted me to though.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “That’s why you put me here, right? To serve her and obey her and to devote my life to her. Right? What other purpose do I have?” The shadows moved again, dancing rapidly. Her Lord’s statue almost looked sad; the statue’s fingers seemed to twitch like they wished to move more. “Are you punishing me for my lack of offerings? Are you angry that I haven’t prayed to you? Is it disappointment that makes you silent? 

    Or is it that I am truly unworthy of your praise? I understand if that’s the case but I need a sign or something! I need you to tell me that you don’t  _ want _ me!” The lights burnt out with the faintest breeze. Her breath stilled in her throat as she waited. A hand touched her back and she tried to fight the urge to whip around. 

_     “Ah, my brave warrior. I did not mean for you weep at my altar.” _ The hand trailed over her shoulder and to her front. She closed her eyes tightly when finger pressed against her scars. “ _ I want you. I need you here, at my feet. In my arms. In my temple and home. I crave for your existence to remain here in the living realm. Do you understand? Do you understand that I want you? _ ” She gave a jerky nod and suddenly the hand was gone. The torches lit back up and when she opened her eyes, one of the plates was empty and the glass half full. 


End file.
